


Post Eventum

by Stellacarlberg



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Slight Hurt/Comfort, a little angsty ngl, bad use of accents, no matter what you ship it's gay tbh, no ships but if you read into it you can find ravey sprace and javey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 19:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellacarlberg/pseuds/Stellacarlberg
Summary: After the rally, Davey finds himself wandering the streets of New York. Without meaning to he ends up outside the Duane Street's lodging house, and face to face with Race.





	Post Eventum

**Author's Note:**

> tbhhhh I wrote this to procastinate on finishing the huge reincarnation-fic I'm working on... but hey it's all fun. Hope you enjoy!!

The rally had been a massive failure. Davey knows this. It had ended in newsies scattering like the wind to get away, to avoid getting arrested, to not have to look at Jack a second longer than necessary. Davey had done the same. The image still burns fresh in his mind - Jack’s grim face, in his hand a large wad of cash. It had been so clear, unmistakably so. There was no doubt to the fact: Jack has left them, truly abandoned them when they had needed him. For money. For the freedom of leaving New York. 

Davey hadn’t been able to say anything, he hadn’t known _what_ to say. Instead he had grabbed a firm hold of Les, who was looking confused and scared, and left the building. The streets outside had been blissfully cool for July, and Davey had quickly walked Les home. But he couldn't stay there, either. The apartment, with its small rooms and his family’s questioning glances, had been too much for him to deal with on top of everything else. So after dropping Les off - and making sure he was well taken care of after the turmoil of the night - Davey had left again. Now he wanders the streets aimlessly. He is gone for what could be hours or mere minutes, there is no way of telling. But Davey doesn’t mind.  
The air and sound of the city never changes, it is as constant as his own beating heart. It works as a reminder for him: at the end of the day, the only thing you are left with is yourself. No friends, no job, no Jack Kelly. Only Davey.

By the time he finds Race, it’s late. It is unintentional of Davey to wander into Duane Street, but at the same time he thinks that this is the only place he can bear to be at right now. 

Race is leaning against the brick wall. His eyes are shut closed, his posture surprisingly relaxed. The black eye is still prominent on his face, the street light overhead showing him off. His cigar is lit, and he slowly exhales the smoke. Davey coughs from the fumes, making the other boy open his eyes to see who is standing beside him.

“Hiya, Dave,” he says and takes another puff of the cigar. “You wanna?” He offers the cigar to Davey, who takes it after a moment's consideration. The taste of smoke and tobacco makes him sick to his stomach, but he doesn’t say anything to Race, who is watching him daringly. Davey knows Race only offered him the smoke to see if he would take it, almost as a sort of test. He doesn’t know if he passed, though. 

“Out on a walk?” Race asks, taking back his cigar. His long, nimble fingers fiddle with it for second before he puts it back into his mouth. 

“Something like that,” Davey confirms. “Trying to clear my head, I suppose.”

Race nods. Davey can’t help but think how unsettling it is to see the usually upbeat and teasing newsie act so quiet. 

“What about you?”

Davey doesn’t know what else to ask, and he hopes he isn’t overstepping any boundaries. The newsies code of conduct can sometimes be very different from the one he’s used to, and he still doesn’t always understand it. 

Race lets out a humourless laugh that chills Davey down to the bones. “Needed a smoke,” he says and gestures with his head back to the lodging house. “Mush don’t like it when I smoke inside when they’s trying to sleep.”

Davey looks at the building. “How are they?” he asks. The newsies, though he has only known them for a week, have become such an important part of his life already. He can’t think of anything worse than getting hurt by someone you considered a friend, considered a leader. 

“Specs and Mush got them smallest to sleep,” Race says, absentmindedly scratching as his chin. “But none of them is doin’ too well.” 

Davey can sense a sort of bitterness in the sentence. 

“Why are you really out here, Race?” he asks quietly. 

Race gives him a look, looking like he is half considering soaking him. When he sees the straight-up honest look on Davey’s face, however, he swallows instead. 

“Needed a break,” he mutters, his gaze falling to the ground. “They’s… all of them, they’s expecting me to lead them.”

Davey is almost surprised by the amount of fear that can be heard in Race’s voice. He always figured Race was kind of the unofficial second-in-command of the Duane Street Newsies. Maybe he doesn’t get the same blind trust that Jack got, but a good amount of respect and, not to mention, love. 

“They care about you,” Davey says. “They trust you.”

Race throws the cigar on the ground and stomps it out. “Maybe that ain’t what I want.”

Davey sighs in slight exasperation. “Those kids love you, Racetrack.” Race scoffs. “They do!” 

He knows he’s right. It’s clear every time you spend time around the newsies. And they don’t love him because of his way with words, or his charm, or his ability to speak in front of a large audience, like Jack. They love him because of his wit, and his ability to make them laugh even when everything seems hopeless.

“They love you because you are always there for them,” Davey says. Despite the dark, he can see Race’s eyes shine. “Every time Jack fails to show up? You’re there. After the strike, who made everyone feel better?”

“Katherine,” Race mutters, and Davey slaps his shoulder. 

“You!” he exclaims. “You were the one who lifted their spirits, made them laugh again.”

Race doesn’t say anything for a while. They stand in silence, letting the horrible night they just experienced wash over them. At last, Race speaks up. 

“I’s not sure what to do with them. They’s expecting me to have all the answers.”

“You don’t need to know exactly what to say,” Davey provides. “You just need to show them that you will stay by them, like you always do. They need that, now that Jack’s…” 

His voice dies down in his throat, and he leans back against the brick wall next to Race. A hollow feeling is spreading through his chest, making everything seem dull and gray. How are they supposed to win the strike without Jack? There is no way they can organize themselves enough, after a fiasco like this. How will they be able to gather enough newsies, if the rally didn’t work? 

Jack really didn’t understand what he did when he left, Davey thinks bitterly. Because if he did, he would never have thought it was a good idea to do it.  
Race claps his shoulder. “I know,” he says, voice surprisingly soft. “But he ain’t worth it, Dave.”

Davey nods numbly, unable to say anything. They stay like that for a few more minutes. Not many people are out at this time of night, so the usual sounds of carriages and pedestrians mixed with newsies hawking headlines are completely gone and replaced with an eerie silence. He thinks about what he said at the rally. He had gone on about everything they could achieve if they stuck together, only to have to eat his words the second Jack showed up and betrayed them.

Race sighs with an air of finality, pulling Davey out of his thoughts. He stands up straight and stretches his arms a bit. He turns to Davey. “What do I tell’em? About the strike?”  
It’s too big of a question for Davey to know the answer. He thinks for a moment, trying to make sense of his thoughts. 

“We’ll stay low, and regroup,” he finally says.

“Regroup?” Race doesn’t look confused, simply sceptic. 

“Yeah,” Davey says, putting a hint of decisiveness into his voice. “Work out our next move.”

Race nods slowly, considering this. “Sure,” he says and goes to move back inside. “Anyway, I’ll-” he suddenly stops in his tracks, eyes fixed on something behind Davey. “What the hell?”

Davey spins around. It takes a moment for his eyes to see through the darkness. A figure is standing on the other side of the street, quietly observing him. The shadow created by the street light makes the man - no, the boy - look more threatening. It takes yet another moment for Davey to place the burly physique and crossed arms. 

“Is that…?”

“Sure is,” Race mutters, narrowed eyes fixed on the figure. “Spot Conlon, in the flesh.”

Davey swallows. Even if he met Spot only a few hours before, even if he shook his hand, he still has a good amount of respect and fear for him. But that is probably what Spot wants. 

“Why is he here?” he asks. Race shrugs, but otherwise there is nothing casual about his posture. 

“Probably wants to check up on the strike,” Race says, eyes still not leaving Spot, who is standing steady without moving. “He’ll want to speak to the leader.”

“Go, then,” Davey says, silently thinking that he’d rather have Race talk to Spot than do it himself. “You know him, don’t you?”

Race glances at Davey, making a face. “I sell in Brooklyn sometime. You ain’t about to sell of Spot Conlon’s turf without speaking to him.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Davey pushes Race forward a bit. Race stumbles but straightens himself out. He glances back at Davey. 

“Go inside,” he recommends. “I ain’t sure how long it’s gonna take.”

Davey nods, and gives Spot Conlon one last glance before turning around and walking inside the lodging house. Race looks after him, and when he’s sure he has gotten inside safely, turns around and walks up to Spot with a new sort of determination in his steps. 

He can deal with Spot Conlon. He knows how to handle him. 

He’s gonna show that Jack Kelly they don’t need him to win this strike.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Hope you liked it. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos or comments to let me know what you think!


End file.
